


Nightmares and Revelations

by southdownsraph



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Wings, Angst, Archangels, Dreams and Nightmares, Falling from Heaven, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Raphael Headcanon, Stars, Wing Grooming, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-05-20 19:06:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19382899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/southdownsraph/pseuds/southdownsraph
Summary: Things are supposed to be settling down after the complete cock-up of Armageddon, but when Crowley starts getting nightmares about his time as an angel, both he and Aziraphale have to handle these new revelations and reevaluate their relationship.





	1. One

 

Crowley was dreaming.

This wasn't a particularly odd occurrence, Aziraphale would be the first to admit, but something didn't feel right.

Aziraphale was sitting beside his demon in bed, a book open on the bedside table and one of Crowley's hands resting on Aziraphale's thigh, his face inches from the angel's hip. He had been trying to hug Aziraphale's leg before he'd finally given in to exhaustion, his body having been denied the regular sleep it was used to for almost a week.

Crowley's wings were out, one spread across the angel's lap where Aziraphale had been grooming it carefully, reverentially fixing each feather while Crowley slept.

Now though, the tender peace of the small room had been disturbed, and Aziraphale paused, his fingertips still buried in the beautiful softness of Crowley's glossy black feathers as he listened.

"No...I didn't.." Crowley muttered again, his voice small and shaky, his fingers twitching against Aziraphale's leg. "Please.."

Aziraphale's heart felt like it had dropped into his stomach at the broken tone of Crowley's voice, the soft, sincere begging driven by intense fear. He hadn't heard anything like it from his demon, not even at the end of the world, not from Anthony J. 'forever the optimist' Crowley.

"It's alright, darling," Aziraphale murmured, slipping one hand off the delicate wing and into Crowley's messy red curls, his thumb stroking over the demon's cheek. "I'm here, my dear."

Crowley shifted again, his brow furrowing as this dream resisted the comforting gesture, usually enough to soothe the demon down from any nightmare. "No.."

Aziraphale sighed and ran his hand over Crowley's bare spine, feeling his cool skin and silently debating what to do next. Crowley had gone through a period after they'd pulled off the switch during which he'd had horrible nightmares every night, and once Aziraphale had gotten used to recognising them early, he'd always been able to calm the demon without waking him. This seemed to be different, and much worse somehow.

Considering the gruesome and horrifying content of Crowley's previous nightmares, Aziraphale wasn't sure he wanted to know what much worse would look like.

But Aziraphale had always been curious, possibly to a fault, and he knew he had another option, an option that could possibly make Crowley quite angry, but at least he wouldn't have to rely on the demon's rather variable ability to talk to him about his dreams.

Aziraphale stroked Crowley's wing once more, then brushed his knuckles down the demon's cheekbone before pressing two fingers against his temple lightly.

 

_The room was small, dark, and made completely out of concrete. A light flickered somewhere near the high ceiling, a grubby yellow light that cast odd shadows in the box-like room._

_Aziraphale had found himself in the corner of this room, an unheard and unseen watcher squinting at a slumped figure in the middle of the floor, an indistinct shape in the dim light._

_The shape shifted slightly, the light catching glistening, bloodied skin, and the stark white of exposed bone. What had once been wings were now mostly gone, a few feathers clinging to charred bones and mutilated skin, the white feathers stained red._

_As the figure moved, tried to push itself up on its hands, Aziraphale saw a flash of red hair and dread settled deep in the pit of his stomach as he slowly moved closer, close enough to see the blistered, burned skin, the countless cuts and lacerations, the pool of blood sticky beneath the angel's torso. There wasn't an inch of skin that wasn't smeared with red or dirt or both._

_The angel fell back with a soft sound of pain and the iron door in the far wall slammed open, revealing Gabriel standing in the doorway. He strode in and over to the angel, who tried to push himself up again, to face up to the archangel in front of him._

_Aziraphale slowly circled around in fascinated horror, dreading what he was going to see, but painfully aware he simply had to know._

_"Archangel Raphael. Pathetic," Gabriel began, his voice booming in the small room as the door slammed shut behind him. "You've disappointed all of us."_

_Aziraphale relaxed slightly at the sound of the unfamiliar name, making his way around to the corner next to Gabriel, so he could see the slumped angel, whose head was down, one cheek against the concrete floor._

_From this angle, Aziraphale could hear the rasping, rattling breaths Raphael was taking, his body very clearly only just clinging to the edge of life._

_Gabriel took a step forward and crouched down, heaving a deep sigh. "You were a favourite, Raphael. The Almighty was quite impressed with you, in fact. And yet, here we are."_

_Raphael lifted his head slowly, every tiny movement betraying pure agony, and as the broken angel finally locked eyes with Gabriel, Aziraphale's heart stopped._

_He_ **_knew_** _that face, he knew it like the back of his hand, it was a face he'd been studying for six thousand years. The eyes were wrong, a soft, beautiful blue, the kind of pale blue that made the watcher feel that if the owner began to cry, all the color would just wash away with the tears._

_Crowley_ **_was_** _crying, in fact, the tears streaming down his cheeks, leaving little clean tracks in the dirt and blood and grime on his face, and Aziraphale remembered to breathe again._

_"Please, Gabriel," Crowley begged, blood spilling from his lower lip as he talked, his voice hoarse and broken, despairing. "I've seen the Great Plan, and it has to stop! The Almighty can't just play games with living, breathing creatures, it's cruel!"_

_Gabriel just shrugged, tilting his head to the side. "You're not supposed to ask questions, Raphael, you can't go around asking the Almighty why she chose her path, and then criticising her on it. It's not what we do, we do what we're told."_

_Crowley's head dropped back to the stone, his eyes displaying nothing but agony and a terrible, heart-wrenching resignation. "She's going to kill sentient beings," he insisted quietly as Gabriel stood up, straightening his jacket stiffly. "Children, animals, everything."_

_"We don't question the Great Plan," Gabriel answered simply and firmly, giving the fallen angel a sad look. "They'll find a place for you here in Hell, Raphael. It's where you belong, you don't fit in with us anymore."_

_The door shut behind Gabriel with a loud clang and the angel on the floor let out a slow sigh, going completely limp and just staring at nothing. Aziraphale didn't think, his brain just shoved him forward as soon as Gabriel had gone, driving him to the body on the floor._

_Raphael looked up dreamily when a pair of shoes stopped in front of his eyes, then dropped his head back again just as Aziraphale fell to his knees, his hands shaking as he reached out slowly._

_As soon as his fingertips brushed the angel's skin, he was gathering Crowley up in his arms, gasping and trembling and stifling little sobs as he pulled the demon into his lap._

_Crowley cried out in pain, his whole being radiating_ **_hurt_** _,_ _but Aziraphale needed to hold his demon, he needed to hold Crowley and cradle him and tend to him. He slid one hand onto the back of Crowley's head, fingers spread, and held him with the other arm tucked around, under his waist. Crowley let out a long breath and drooped over his lap, his eyes slowly opening to stare up at Aziraphale's face._

_Before, they had been such a soft, perfect blue, but now they were slowly changing, morphing into the much more familiar gold that Aziraphale had only ever known._

_"Aziraphale.." Crowley gasped, his hands gently scrabbling on the angel's now blood-smeared coat. "Please. Wake me up.."_


	2. Two

Crowley gasped and shook as if being yanked from freezing water, immediately curling up as Aziraphale opened his eyes. The angel could feel the pain still poisoning the air around his demon, so he slid down quickly, laying beside Crowley and opening his arms as a silent invitation.

There was no thought involved from either of them, no need for conscious awareness as Crowley pressed himself against his angel, searching for comfort and relief and finding warm skin and a tight, loving embrace.

Aziraphale buried his face in Crowley's soft curls, squeezing his eyes shut so the tears couldn't escape, his fingertips digging into Crowley's back ever so gently.

The demon felt warm in Aziraphale's grasp, almost hot to the touch as he shivered and cried softly, his hands grasping desperately at the angel's sides. The desperation in Crowley's movements finally pushed Aziraphale over the edge and he took a sudden, gasping breath as he opened his eyes, letting the tears spill over and stream down his cheeks. He gritted his teeth and gripped Crowley tighter, his whole body tensing with the effort of forcing the pain from the demon's body.

Crowley still couldn't stop sobbing, soft, but heavy cries, each one wracking his body even as the horrible burning and throbbing began to fade, ebbing away and leaving the demon weak and trembling, his body no longer feeling his own.

Aziraphale shook against him, cradling Crowley's head to his shoulder and closing his eyes tightly as the room spun around him, his breathing heavy and slightly raspy.

They both lay quietly for a minute or two, getting their breath back and calming down from the dream and its aftermath, until they both finally felt ready to talk.

In fact, Aziraphale was the first to break the silence, running his fingers through Crowley's hair and shifting position so he could kiss his forehead. "I've got you, darling, it's alright."

Crowley heaved a deep sigh, coming back to life at the sound of the angel's voice, his fingers curling in the angel's shirt. "I know. But you shouldn't have done that, it was too much for you."

" _I_ decide what's too much for me," Aziraphale answered firmly, but he knew the demon was right, soothing his pain had been absolutely exhausting and probably wasn't the best idea, but Aziraphale hadn't been thinking, he'd just wanted to make it stop.

Crowley shifted slightly, burying his face in the crook of Aziraphale's neck and running a hand up his back, resting it over one of his shoulder blades. "I'm sorry, angel. I didn't mean to scare you," he murmured, a little uncertain of himself, but knowing he needed to be reassured by his angel.

"Don't be stupid," Aziraphale answered softly, still a bit shaken up as he stared off at nothing, his fingers curling against the back of Crowley's head. "It's not your fault."

Crowley cracked a tiny smile and pressed a soft kiss to the angel's warm skin, glad that after all these years, Aziraphale could still surprise him, even in such small ways. But he knew what was coming, and he knew the angel wouldn't surprise him now, not with this.

He could tell Aziraphale was struggling, trying to piece together the questions he wanted to ask and figure out how to ask them properly, and Crowley knew it was necessary, whether he liked it or not. He knew what the questions would be, but he wasn't sure the angel would like the answers.

"Darling," Aziraphale began slowly, his voice uncertain and slightly shaky as he continued to stare off at nothing.

Crowley began to pull away from him gently, ignoring the angel's frantic grabs at his sides and the flash of panic radiating off Aziraphale's body as he moved back so he could clearly see his angel's face.

Aziraphale looked away sharply when their gazes met briefly, his expression awkward as he wrung his hands in front of him. "Crowley, you…who were you before we met?"

Crowley closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his hands finding Aziraphale's and taking them nervously.

He had thought he'd been prepared, but nothing could have prepared him for the tone in Aziraphale's voice, worried and somewhat betrayed, hurt even. The angel knew he'd been lying for six thousand years, and Crowley should have known he'd be upset, but it was still somehow surprising. Apparently today was the day for surprises.

"I was the archangel Raphael," he answered quietly, shifting forward again so his face was only inches from Aziraphale's, his hand coming up to rest comfortably on the still shivery angel's cheek.

Aziraphale just shut his eyes and waited, waited for it all to make sense while he focused on the feel of Crowley's soft skin against his own.

"I'm sorry, angel," Crowley mumbled again, his thumb running under Aziraphale's eye as he struggled to keep his voice calm and even. "I know you feel like I lied to you, but I...we never spoke about it before. Not really."

Aziraphale wanted to open his eyes and shout, to shake the demon's shoulders. _What about sauntering vaguely downwards, what about falling in with the wrong crowd?_ But he couldn't. He was falling apart inside, his whole being torn between anger and sympathy and love as he tried his hardest to just listen, and he couldn't move, even if he'd wanted to.

"I didn't want you to think of me differently," Crowley added, after a brief hesitation and a soft little sigh. "But I...I don't know how much you saw, but I didn't do _anything_ wrong. I asked questions, I went to God and I begged her to change her plan, I begged her not to hurt children or create humans as just...expendable playthings. It never seemed fair to me, and she just wouldn't listen. All the other archangels heard that I'd talked to God and they had me cast down. Please, Aziraphale, please believe me," Crowley went on, his voice becoming pleading and desperate as the angel just lay there, his expression blank and unreadable.

As soon as the demon's tone changed, however, Aziraphale's eyes snapped open and he forced a tiny smile. "Oh, I know _that_ , you idiot," he soothed fondly, but his whole manner was still slightly shaky. "I know you wouldn't do anything bad, not truly bad."

Crowley managed to smile back, his chest warmed by the angel's words, but he could feel the slight stinging in the corners of his eyes and he definitely didn't want to start crying again, so instead he just reached forward, easily drawing his angel into a soft, loving kiss.

Aziraphale melted into his touch instantly, shivering as Crowley moved closer, running his hands over the angel, still desperate to feel his warmth and feel him close, _needing_ Aziraphale more than he ever had.

The angel broke the kiss first, struggling to hold back tears once more as he gently drew Crowley into his chest, still trying to shake off the effects of the dream and his exhaustion from healing Crowley's pain. "I don't understand, I...I'm so confused. I think this is going to take time to sink in," he mumbled, and Crowley gave a small nod, allowing his legs to tangle with the angel's as they shifted even closer together.

"We don't have to talk about it tonight," he pointed out softly, his skin feeling cool again in comparison to Aziraphale's warm hand as the angel stroked down Crowley's side over and over, soothing him. "I think you're right, it's a big thing to handle...and I didn't want you to find out this way, I wanted to tell you myself. But I'm...I'm glad you know."

Aziraphale smiled dreamily, running his hand through the demon's long hair ever so slowly and being careful not to let his fingers catch in any tangles. "I always knew you were special, darling, and now I know that you made the stars. You... _fuck_ , I love you," he breathed, suddenly enveloping Crowley in a warm, perfectly Aziraphale-scented embrace, gripping onto him as if letting go was simply not an option.

Crowley smiled against Aziraphale's skin, allowing his body to relax and his wings to slide out again, spreading out over the angel and behind himself as he pressed his chest right up against Aziraphale's. "I love you too, angel. But I need more rest."

"I'll be right here," Aziraphale answered quickly, almost before Crowley had finished his sentence, and the demon gave another small smile as he pressed a soft kiss to Aziraphale's neck.

"I know."

 

Aziraphale just relaxed as best he could and lay there quietly, feeling Crowley slowly going limp against him, all the tension fading from his body as he slipped deeper into unconsciousness.

The angel just kept staring off into space, his eyes slightly wider than usual and his fingers curled around a handful of Crowley's beautiful black feathers, half protective and half reassuring himself the demon was still there with him.

As hard as he tried, Aziraphale just couldn't force the images from his mind, the visceral horror of seeing his demon, his love, his Crowley bleeding and battered and nearly dead on a cold stone floor. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw bright red blood and exhausted, despairing eyes, and he could still hear the rasping, rattling breaths Crowley had been struggling to take in the back of his mind.

Crowley began to snore softly, shaking Aziraphale out of his thoughts for just a moment, long enough to feel the demon's unconscious body language change ever so slightly as he slipped into another dream.

The angel simply couldn't help himself and _stepped forward into darkness._

_Far off was a bright light, shifting and changing in color as he watched, so he moved forward slowly, walking through nothing until the light began to get clearer, sharper in focus as he got closer, and much larger. It didn't take long for Aziraphale to realise he was staring at the back of an angel, the beautiful white wings tucked up against the angel's shoulders._

_He was emitting a soft glow, spreading out into the darkness around him as he worked, light bursting out from in front of him and showing off the rainbow of colours Aziraphale had seen from far off._

_He knew what he was looking at, he was sure of it, but he walked around in front anyway, and smiled to himself, relieved and comforted by the peaceful concentration on Raphael's face._

_The archangel was working in silence, legs crossed as he spun mini nebulae in his fingers and carefully placed marble-sized stars in their rightful positions as part of a tiny scale universe floating in front of him. His soft blue eyes sparkled and shone in the reflected light, almost dancing with the movement of the luminescent material under his hands._

_Aziraphale couldn't help but stare, his eyes wide and his brain playing a single thought on a loop, over and over again -_ his eyes look like that when he looks at **you**.

_Raphael didn't notice Aziraphale this time, not that the smaller angel would have been able to move or say anything anyway, not with his mind short-circuiting this spectacularly, so Aziraphale sat down and just watched. It was so soothing to see his love like this, so comfortable and absorbed, so focused. Crowley would so often bounce from place to place and thing to thing so quickly it almost gave Aziraphale whiplash, and yet here he was, working diligently and with every sign of quiet enjoyment._

_A quiet enjoyment that had been ripped away from him, Aziraphale realised suddenly, reeling as if he'd been slapped in the face, his fingers curling into fists by his sides. Gabriel and the others had taken Crowley's passion, tore it from him, and cast him down to forever search for a nonexistent something that made him just as happy._

_Aziraphale glared into the darkness by his feet, anger bubbling away in his stomach as he flexed and curled his fingers over and over, images from Crowley's last dream popping up unbidden. He started to breathe heavily, burying his face in his hands, but a very simple, quiet sound yanked him out of his spiral, returning him to calm peace in an instant._

_Raphael laughed._

_It was a laugh that was all Crowley, but the voice was slightly deeper as he spoke to himself softly. "Whoops. Too big."_

_Aziraphale lifted his head, watching in hypnotised fascination as Raphael plucked a star from the space around him and carefully rolled it between his fingers before placing it back. "All done," he said quietly, tapping the map, which disappeared, and standing up slowly. As he rose, the tiny stars suddenly spread out, coming to full size and into their proper positions, leaving Raphael and Aziraphale in space above Earth, looking down at the planet below them._

_As Aziraphale looked up again, he realised two things. One was that the dark sky above them was now full of stars, shining down at them and filling Raphael's eyes with beautiful, soft light. The second thing he realised as he stood up, reaching out slowly for the angel in front of him, was the presence of the archangel Gabriel, casually walking through Aziraphale and coming to stand directly in front of Raphael._

_This wasn't like Crowley's last dream, Raphael wasn't a shivering, cowering wreck, he was tall and confident and smiled down at Gabriel calmly._

_"I have finished."_

_Gabriel glanced around impatiently as Aziraphale stepped aside and four more angels joined Gabriel in standing in front of Raphael, who now looked slightly confused. "I can see that. We're here about the Great Plan."_

_Raphael's confidence dropped away immediately, but he remained calm, tilting his head to the side slightly and causing a cascade of red curls to spill off his shoulder._

_"What about the Great Plan?"_

_"You've been questioning it," one of the other angels, Sandalphon, cut in with an unpleasant sneer that Aziraphale definitely recognised, having been on the receiving end of it plenty of times. "You're not supposed to question it."_

_Raphael flashed a nervous smile, wiping his hands on his robe and glancing down towards Earth. "Well, it was just a little discussion, everything's sorted out now. Um. God told me not to worry, and I'm...I'm not."_

_Gabriel gave a small sigh and shook his head. "I wish that were so. In fact, the Almighty was very upset by your questions. I'm afraid we have orders to cast you down to the pits of Hell."_

_Aziraphale went cold as pure, inescapable terror flashed across Raphael's expression, his whole body now closed off and frightened as he took a step back, away from Gabriel._

_The rest of the dream only lasted a few seconds, but to Aziraphale, and to the sleeping Crowley, the seconds dragged by, slowed by sheer horror and pain._

_Sandalphon grinned and gave a small sarcastic wave, just as fire erupted around Raphael's feet, refusing to be stomped out as the archangel attempted to look like he wasn't panicking at all.  "Goodbye, Raf. Have a nice trip."_

_With that, the flames soared, engulfing Raphael and ripping a heartfelt scream of pure agony from his lungs. He went to his knees, crying out again, a sound that Aziraphale knew would forever be in the back of his mind, branded into his memory. He felt heavy and frozen, he wanted to do something,_ anything _to make it stop, but he couldn't move a muscle._

_Raphael threw back his head and screamed one last time just before the fire went out and he was falling, tumbling down, too scared to make any noise and covered in blood, his wings wrecked and useless._

_Aziraphale immediately found himself falling next to Raphael, and reached out for him desperately, but his fingers went straight through the archangel's hand, leaving them both feeling very alone, the sound of rushing air dominating their worlds._

_Raphael had gone limp, his eyes wet as he stared up at the rapidly shrinking stars, simple gravity dragging him further and further away from his beautiful creations. His wings stretched out above him, leaving a trail of feathers in the air as the wind ripped them off the burned and shredded skin, allowing Aziraphale to see Raphael's face clearly through the gaps between his bones. This wasn't something Aziraphale was grateful for, though, and luckily he didn't have to watch the heart-wrenching agony on Raphael's face for long, as they both hit the ground hard a few seconds later._

_Aziraphale immediately rolled over to try and grab at the archangel again, but as soon as Raphael landed, he began to sink into the ground, desperately clawing at the earth around him, the roots of a tree, the grass, anything he could use to try and prolong his descent. He didn't yell or scream, all his energy was devoted to keeping himself on the surface, but it was all to no avail._

_Aziraphale watched, utterly helpless, his eyes wide and his body trembling as Raphael stared through him wildly for just a moment, then sank down, the ground closing over his head as if nothing had ever happened._

 

Aziraphale launched himself out of bed the moment he woke, fury and pain and confusion making his fingers tremble as he stormed out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him with a crash that shook the entire house.  

He was so enraged he could feel his face heating up and his breathing becoming quicker and shallower. He wanted to find them and he wanted to kill them _all._

Aziraphale half ran out of the front door, leaving it standing open as he stumbled out onto the front lawn and collapsed onto his knees. He stared at nothing for a moment, his chest heaving, then squeezed his eyes shut and screamed as loud as he could, just one simple word.

" **Fuck!** "

It almost did something, it almost made him feel just a tiny bit better, but he needed _more,_  he needed some kind of relief. The pain inside was eating him up, making it harder and harder to breathe as he finally gave in and folded over, his fingers tangling in his own hair harshly while he began to sob, soft cries at first, but very quickly changing into the heaving, breathtaking sobs of someone so overloaded that it was either cry or explode.

He rocked himself slightly, tightening his grip on his hair until it began to hurt, that little bit of sharp discomfort providing a much needed distraction from the horrible, dull ache in his stomach.

After a moment or two, he felt the air around him shift and a gentle, but shaky hand landed on his back, stroking down his spine slowly and apparently ignoring him flinching.

"Angel, stop," Crowley murmured, his voice slightly hoarse, but caring and soft as he carefully untangled Aziraphale's hands from his hair, rubbing over his knuckles. "You're going to hurt yourself."

This was apparently enough to flip the switch in Aziraphale back the other way, back into anger, and he straightened up somewhat, tears streaming down his cheeks as he glared up at the sky with a venomous look not even Crowley could have topped.

"Fuck you! Fuck all of you! None of you are fucking angels, you're all...fucking shit! Horrible fucking people!" He screamed until his voice broke, ripping up the grass around him unconsciously as another sob wracked his body and he began to shout again. "You don't fucking deserve him!"

Crowley just sat for a moment and listened to his angel screaming and swearing and sobbing, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do about it and trying not to think about how clear it was that insults felt so unfamiliar to Aziraphale. Eventually, he came to a conclusion through a mind still fogged with sleep and pain, and wrapped an arm around his angel's waist, awkwardly stroking his side.

Aziraphale looked up at Crowley sharply, fury still curling in his chest, but as soon as he saw the expression in his demon's eyes, all the anger drained away and left Aziraphale shaking and crying and guilty.

Crowley looked _awful_ , a mess of physical and emotional pain written all over his expression and mixing with the sheer exhaustion in his slightly drawn face, all of this enough to finally shake Aziraphale from his self pity.

"I-I'm sorry, darling! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shout, I just...I'm sorry, I shouldn't have stormed off like that.."

Crowley sighed and gently grabbed the angel's shoulders, giving him a light shake to get his attention. "Hey. Look at me, and shut up for a minute, okay?"

Aziraphale's eyes widened in shock and anxiety and he just gave a tiny nod, stunned by Crowley's directness and the roller coaster ride he was apparently still strapped into.

"You don't need to apologise for having feelings. You worried me, but I know you're not angry with me, and you never acted like you were. Okay?"

Aziraphale managed a tiny nod and Crowley ran a hand over the angel's cheek, brushing his tears away gently. "I'm here, angel."

Aziraphale gave a bitter chuckle at that, his jaw clenching as he looked away sharply. "I should be comforting you, it was _your_ nightmare."

Crowley shrugged and leaned into the angel's side, letting his wings slip out to ease the pain in his back somewhat, but keeping them folded neatly. "I lived it, it's...different. You're seeing it all for the first time."

Aziraphale decided not to answer, instead letting his own wings open out and wrapping one around Crowley protectively, the soft white feathers brushing the demon's jaw.

Crowley just shifted slightly, pressing himself closer to Aziraphale and twisting the fingers of his spare hand in the angel's shirt. He turned his head and half buried his face in Aziraphale's shoulder, taking in his warm scent and the sensation of the soft fabric against his cheek, reminding him he was still here, with his angel.

Aziraphale began to relax, his eyes closing up as the emotions and images from the dream began to fade, but nowhere near fast enough. After a moment or two, he opened his eyes again and slowly looked up, taking in the beauty of the stars and feeling his heart swell as he thought about how it was _his_ darling who had made them. It felt, to Aziraphale, like they were a little bit his as well, and he just stared up at them until his vision began to blur and the tears spilled over.

Crowley ran his fingertips over Aziraphale's thigh lightly, leaning up to kiss his cheek at the same time. "You alright?"

Aziraphale smiled through the tears now streaming down his cheeks and gave a small nod as he looked at his demon and took in the gentle concern on his face. "They're so beautiful, darling, I just...I can't help it."

Crowley chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling as if reflecting the light of a thousand stars, although all he was looking at was Aziraphale. "You stupid angel," he murmured, his voice full of fondness and tender love. "Come here.."

And so they kissed under the stars Crowley had made, sitting in front of the house Aziraphale had designed, and it was perfect, despite everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all your sweet comments on the last chapter!
> 
> I'm really sorry if this isn't the best, I've been rereading it and editing it for days and at this point I'm sick of looking at it so I decided to put it up anyways.
> 
> It seems kinda final but I have a lot more to write on this so stay tuned!


	3. Three

They kept kissing for a while under the stars, exchanging little pecks and occasionally going in for deeper, longer embraces. Sometimes Aziraphale would remember something from one of the dreams and get a little desperate, at which point Crowley would gently push him away and stroke his cheeks and comfort him until he calmed down before bringing him into another, slower kiss. 

After a few minutes of this, Aziraphale began to shiver, no longer warmed by the fires of rage. Crowley noticed immediately and encouraged him up and back into the cottage, his touch gentle but firm as he guided the tired angel inside. 

However, as soon as they stepped through the door, Crowley stumbled, grabbing onto a bookshelf to steady himself dizzily, and Aziraphale rushed forward, wrapping a strong arm around the demon's waist. "I'm going to make some tea. How about you lie down on the couch for a while?" He suggested softly, starting to lead Crowley into the living room, supporting him as best he could. 

Crowley just nodded, gritting his teeth as he forced his exhausted and pained legs to continue walking, carrying him to the couch, where he immediately collapsed. Aziraphale sighed and helped him get his legs up, then tucked a beige and blue tartan blanket around him before crouching down and stroking his hair slowly. 

"I'm so sorry, darling, I think I'm too tired to help." 

Crowley shook his head slightly, his golden eyes slipping closed again as he relaxed into the sofa cushions. "Don't risk it, angel, I'll be alright." 

"Are you sure, dear?"

Crowley gave a wan smile and nodded. “I’m fine, I’m just tired, really.” 

Aziraphale wasn’t entirely convinced, but he did his best to ignore his doubts and leaned down quickly, pressing a lingering, tender kiss to Crowley's cheek as he stroked a hand down the demon’s side. "I'll go make that tea, that'll help." 

Crowley smiled again, a little more genuinely as he shifted slightly to get comfortable on the rather old couch. He knew Aziraphale always made tea when he was flustered and confused, so he let him go, and decided not to tell him that tea definitely wasn't going to be enough. 

In the kitchen, Aziraphale was already throwing himself into the familiar, comforting routine of putting the kettle on to boil. His mind was racing and his hands shaking, but as he worked, carefully tipping loose leaf tea into the pot, he began to calm down, his breathing becoming more regular and even. 

As he poured the water into the pot, he allowed himself to let go of his thoughts and just focus on filling the pot perfectly, and placing the lid back with care. Then he wandered back towards the living room, standing in the doorway a little awkwardly to check on Crowley. 

The demon had his eyes closed, but Aziraphale could tell he wasn't asleep by the way he was laying and his breathing pattern. And even from this distance, Aziraphale could see the dark scales peeking out from under the demon's hair and scattered on his arms. When he was this exhausted, sometimes it was easier for Crowley to let go and relax much more deeply without the rigid constraints of maintaining his humanity. 

The internal timer in Aziraphale's mind went off and he tore himself away from the door reluctantly, walking back into the kitchen to pour out the tea. 

A few moments later, he carried two mugs of peppermint tea into the living room and set them down on the coffee table carefully. 

"Crowley, darling." 

Crowley shifted and let out a soft grunt, the scales receding as he opened his fully golden eyes slowly, blinking at nothing while the gold shrank back to form irises around his slitted pupils. "Mm?" 

"Tea, it'll make you feel better," Aziraphale said firmly, and Crowley just nodded, hauling himself up into a sitting position and slumping against the angel's shoulder as soon as he sat down beside him. Aziraphale picked both mugs up again and handed one to Crowley, who just stared down into his, his expression blank. 

"Drink up and then I'll sit with you while you rest, alright?" Aziraphale murmured nervously, stroking Crowley's hair back behind his ear and brushing his thumb over the demon's cheek. "I won't get involved this time, I'll just wake you if you seem upset." 

Crowley gave a slow nod, deciding not to argue despite his apprehension about trying to get back to sleep. He knew that if he didn't sleep now, he'd be exhausted for another entire day, and a lthough he knew the angel would never show it, Aziraphale could get rather irritated when Crowley was tired and grumpy, especially as he didn't really understand the need for sleep.

So Crowley drank his tea dutifully, and was surprised to find it did make his back ache a little less, then allowed himself to be ushered back to bed. He didn’t even think of protesting as Aziraphale climbed in under the covers beside him and pulled him into a loose, but tender embrace. 

"I love you, my dear, get some rest for me. I'll be right here.." 

Crowley couldn't help but give a dreamy little smile, curling up slightly and burying his face in the angel's chest before promptly passing out. 

 

Aziraphale smiled to himself and just held Crowley carefully as he went limp, his whole body relaxing against Aziraphale's. 

As the angel watched, Crowley's scales began to come back slightly, just a little hint of shine in front of his ears and around his hairline as his body cooled, making Aziraphale just a little chilly. 

The angel solved this problem by pulling his demon even closer, their bodies pressed together firmly now so Crowley's skin could warm up against Aziraphale's. 

He ran his hand over the demon's bare back under the blankets, his fingertips trailing over Crowley's spine lightly before he pressed an absent-minded kiss to the side of Crowley's head. 

Now that he had been left alone with his thoughts, Aziraphale was back, stuck in Crowley's dreams as he went over and over each scene in his mind.

He couldn’t help himself, and despite everything, he found himself focused in on the expression he’d seen on Raphael's face when he had been told he was to be cast down to Hell. It was a look Aziraphale knew well, one that he had seen on Crowley's face too many times now. He had first seen it when Crowley had realised God was going to drown the children instead of allowing them on Noah's Ark, and it had just screamed horror and despair and shaken faith. 

That look was stuck in Aziraphale's head forever, and he knew that every time he'd seen it over the last six thousand years, Crowley's naturally tender soul had been bruised a little bit more. 

And in that dream, Aziraphale had witnessed the second blow Crowley had ever received, the second real hit to his personality, his attitude, his whole self. The first, Aziraphale could guess from six thousand years with the demon, had been delivered in his conversations with God, when the Almighty had refused to listen to Crowley's concerns. 

That had to have been the first moment in which Crowley had begun to lose his faith, but there were too many moments, countless moments that had beaten him down and trodden his natural optimism into the mud, and now the only word for him was  _ broken _ . 

The way Aziraphale had always looked at it, Crowley simply didn't believe in anything, at least not anything he was supposed to have faith in. He didn't believe in Hell, he didn't believe in Heaven, but he did believe in humans. He’d proven that countless times over in the years leading up to the Armageddon that wasn’t.

Crowley had seen the worst in people and the best and had still forged on, displaying a sort of distant fondness that had always warmed Aziraphale's heart. Especially when Crowley had, throughout history, gently steered Aziraphale into performing quite a few more child-centered miracles. 

Aziraphale smiled to himself and stroked Crowley's hair slowly, letting his eyes slip closed as he thought. 

Maybe it wasn't that Crowley was broken, Aziraphale mused to himself, maybe that was thinking of it the wrong way - from the point of view of either Heaven or Hell. Crowley hadn't broken, exactly, he'd become an honorary human. 

He cared for people more than his own kind, he struggled with his past and his employers and his own slightly shaky but generally caring moral compass, and he just went through life as best he could.

But Aziraphale had a feeling this sudden and frankly rather brutal reminder of his past could easily tear down the walls and defenses Crowley had built over the centuries and leave him truly lost. After all, he was being reminded not only of what he had been, but also what he could have been, what he had lost, and all the doors that had been slammed in his face.

Aziraphale heaved a long sigh and buried his face in Crowley's soft hair, drawing in the smell of his rather sharp cologne and hugging him even tighter. "It's going to be alright, my love," he murmured, mostly for his own sake as he cradled the back of Crowley's head in one hand. "I promise. We'll get through this together, it's just a little hiccup," he went on softly, wishing he could have complete confidence in his own words. 

Crowley shifted slightly, causing Aziraphale to tense briefly, but the demon very easily slipped back into unconsciousness and Aziraphale relaxed, kissing his cheek lovingly. 

"I'll be here when you wake up, darling."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, at last! Sorry it's been a long time coming, to make up for it, I'm posting the last two chapters at the same time.   
> Hope you all enjoy and I look forward to hearing what you guys think of it!


	4. Four

Crowley did indeed wake up beside his angel, but not in the same place he fell asleep. 

Instead, they were both outside, side by side on a tartan picnic blanket, in the shade of the big oak tree behind the cottage. The warm summer breeze brushed over Crowley's skin, making him shiver slightly and roll over to search for Aziraphale. His body still felt heavy and not quite under his control, but he managed to get himself onto his back, looking up at his angel as Aziraphale turned a page in his book, apparently completely absorbed. 

Crowley blinked up at him sleepily, taking in every little detail of the peaceful picture in front of him; the way the breeze ruffled Aziraphale's fluffy hair, the way a splotch of sunlight spilled over his shoulder, shifting ever so slightly as he breathed. The angel was sitting with his knees bent in front of him, the book held in one hand and his back much more relaxed than usual. Crowley took a deep breath and reached out slowly, letting his hand drop, his fingertips brushing the outside of Aziraphale's thigh and making him jump slightly. 

"Angel.." 

Aziraphale quickly put his book down and leaned over Crowley, brushing his shoulder-length hair away from the demon's forehead with a gentle hand. His smile was bright and loving, and Crowley felt warmth flare up in his chest as he gazed up at the angel. "Good afternoon, darling. Are you feeling any better?" Aziraphale asked softly, but his voice was slightly urgent as he searched Crowley's eyes for any signs of pain and allowed his thumb to brush over the handful of scales scattered near the demon’s temple. 

"Much," Crowley answered sleepily, his eyelids drooping slightly. "Thank you." 

"It's no problem, darling, but you should probably try to stay awake now, so you can sleep tonight." 

"M'cold," Crowley muttered in reply, and Aziraphale rolled his eyes, pressing a soft kiss to the demon's forehead. 

"Then move into the sun, my dear, I'll come with you." 

Crowley grunted something and shook his head, rolling over to bury his face in the outside of Aziraphale's thigh. The angel sighed to himself and reached down to stroke Crowley's arm, but drew back sharply when he found the demon's skin to be ice cold under his fingertips. 

"You need to be more careful, darling, you can't keep letting yourself get this tired," Aziraphale reprimanded gently, waving his hand and performing a rather small miracle to move them into the sun closer to the house. Crowley suddenly seemed much more relaxed, pulling away from the angel slowly and moving onto his back once more to soak up as much sun as possible. Aziraphale just picked his book up again, knowing how long it took Crowley to warm up naturally and deciding he might as well settle in for a while. 

"Angel?" 

Aziraphale glanced down in slight surprise, looking down into dark sunglasses as Crowley stared up into the sky. "Yes, my love?" 

Crowley hesitated slightly, waiting for the little shivers caused by Aziraphale's gentle, easily-spoken words to die down. "Are we going to talk about things?" 

Aziraphale sighed and set his book aside again, slowly laying down on his back beside the demon. "I don't know, that's really up to you. I assumed you weren't feeling well enough right now." 

Crowley gave a soft sigh and allowed his hand to slip between them, carefully finding Aziraphale's and lacing their fingers to alleviate his nerves somewhat. "I feel well enough. I don't really want to talk about things, but...I think we need to." 

Aziraphale nodded and squeezed Crowley's hand lightly, unconsciously shifting closer to the demon. "I agree, and we can take a break at any point if you get overwhelmed." 

"I know," he answered simply.

Aziraphale took a deep breath, deciding to just push on. 

"What...what exactly happened? You told me the other angels had you cast down, but Gabriel said the order came from God," Aziraphale murmured, shifting onto his side and holding Crowley's hand in both of his, his thumbs stroking over the demon's skin. 

Crowley was silent for a moment as he gathered his thoughts, then he sighed and shifted position slightly, his grip on Aziraphale’s hand tightening unconsciously. "Gabriel lied. The other angels were angry because I had a direct channel to God. I guess they thought it was unfair, and so they did it themselves.” 

Aziraphale squeezed Crowley's hand gently, still watching the side of his face and noticing the way Crowley’s jaw clenched and the little muscles in his face twitched. "They're bastards," he said simply, and Crowley just sighed, carefully moving onto his side and taking his sunglasses off so he could see his angel properly. Aziraphale smiled at him sadly and leaned in slowly, letting their lips brush together before kissing him properly, still only a soft peck, but much more tender. 

"Crowley?" 

"Mhm?" He hummed, not opening his eyes as the angel pulled away, one hand sliding from Crowley's to rest on his side instead. 

"You said you get sore during the day...that’s still because of your Fall, is it? I honestly didn't think it was that painful...and I don't know, you must still be upset about it, right?" 

Crowley took a deep, slow breath and moved onto his back again, his eyes still closed as he settled into the grass and tried to focus on the gentle warmth of the sun instead of the burning ache in his shoulders. "That's a lot of questions, angel." 

"I'm sorry, but I do have a lot of questions," Aziraphale answered gently, trying on an unsuccessful smile and running his hand down the demon's chest slowly as Crowley took a moment to think once more. 

"I do still get a lot of pain. And yes, that’s what it’s from. I don’t think falling is describable, even if I wanted to try. But you...you make it better when you’re here, with me,” Crowley admitted quietly, his grip on Aziraphale’s hand loosening as he felt his cheeks start to heat up. “I don't know if it’s just about distraction, but I never feel the same around anyone else. Especially when I sleep and you stay with me." 

Aziraphale closed his eyes for a moment, forcing himself to breathe evenly and to stay calm and cool for Crowley’s sake, but allowed himself the comfort of sliding his arm around the demon’s waist protectively. "I'm sorry, my love, I don't like thinking about you hurt like that." 

Crowley just shrugged, and squeezed Aziraphale's hand gently, all these questions and big thoughts starting to take their toll and make him feel numb and cold. "I know. I did forget, for a while, though. That was easier,” he mumbled, shifting slightly closer into the angel’s chest. “Because I didn’t have to think about them doing the same to you.” 

"How long did you forget about it?" Aziraphale asked gently, trailing his fingertips up and down over Crowley's ribs ever so lightly and trying to force his own emotions down again, shoving them out of his conscious mind so he wouldn’t upset his demon any further. 

"A few thousand years," Crowley answered in a low tone, a sort of soft disquiet in his voice as he squeezed Aziraphale’s hand tighter. "At least in detail. I could remember what I had done, but I didn't remember my name or what it felt like to be an angel.." he trailed off for a moment, but Aziraphale could tell he was searching for the right words, so he waited patiently, watching Crowley's face and studying the anguish hidden in his golden eyes. 

"Sometimes I would look up at the stars and I would get..upset." Crowley heaved a huge sigh and shifted slightly, clearly uncomfortable and struggling to get the words out, even for Aziraphale. "But then I'd remind myself of everything I have here. If I'd never fallen, I would never have...I would never have met you." 

Crowley took another breath and went on quickly before Aziraphale could reply, as if wishing he hadn't said the last sentence out loud. "That's part of why the idea of Armageddon was so repulsive to me. I would be destroying Earth, the only thing that means anything to me, aside from you. As well as killing  _ everything _ , which...it just isn't fair." 

Crowley's voice was getting a little strained, thick with the sudden emotion bubbling up despite the blanket of heavy numbness, so Aziraphale leaned over and pressed a soft, comforting kiss to his cheek. "It's alright, Crowley. We're still here, darling." 

Crowley let out a deep sigh and nodded slightly as he relaxed again, turning his head to smile at the angel weakly. "Sorry, I just don't like thinking about how close it was." 

"Me neither." 

Silence fell between them for a few moments as they both tried not to think about the events that had almost culminated in the end of the world. 

Aziraphale was the first to break the silence, his gaze returning to Crowley's face slightly unsettled. "When I saw you in your second dream...I couldn't help thinking how much you loved what you were doing. And they took that from you, and...did you ever find anything else that made you that happy?" 

Crowley closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly and letting out a sharp, huffed breath. "Of course I did. I found you, angel, why else would I have stayed here for so long?" 

Aziraphale's eyes widened in shock as he opened his mouth, then closed it again, completely speechless. 

Crowley sat up suddenly, letting go of Aziraphale's hand to rub his eyes, then reached behind him and grabbed his sunglasses again. 

Aziraphale watched him, feeling his demon slipping through his fingers like sand, feeling him shut down and close off. 

"Crowley, darling, I.." Aziraphale stuttered into silence and Crowley gave a quiet sigh, not looking at the angel. 

"I don't feel like talking anymore." 

"I love you," Aziraphale blurted out desperately, sitting up beside the demon and reaching out tentatively to rest a hand on his arm. "I know that sometimes you feel I don't, or that I love you differently than you love me, but I  _ do _ love you, Crowley. I'm just...I'm not always good at expressing it." 

"That makes two of us, then," Crowley answered gloomily, and Aziraphale chuckled softly, leaning his head against the demon's shoulder and moving even closer to him.

"I suppose it does. But we'll be okay," he murmured, although it sounded more like a question than a statement. 

"We will," Crowley smiled, relaxing again and allowing his head to rest against Aziraphale's, just before the angel gently pulled away. 

"Crowley?" 

"Mm?" Crowley hummed in response, a little annoyed that his comfortable position had been disturbed. 

"I would like it very much if you would take it upon yourself to kiss me right now, darling," Aziraphale said slowly, gazing at his demon through suddenly rather intense blue eyes. Crowley didn't turn to look at him, instead just giving a soft chuckle. "Yeah? You would, would you? Good for you." 

Aziraphale hesitated for a moment, apparently contemplating this answer deeply before replying. "If you don't kiss me right now, my love, I will shave your head while you sleep." 

"You love my hair too much for that, angel," Crowley answered smugly, and Aziraphale gave a little growl, grabbing the demon's jaw and tugging him into an annoyed kiss that very quickly turned tender and slow. 

Crowley slid one hand up and over Aziraphale's back, just as the angel reached up and grabbed a fistful of his long curly hair, pulling on it lightly. Crowley gasped in over-dramatised indignation and broke away, grinning at Aziraphale before moving around in front of the angel, his long-fingered hands running up Aziraphale's legs. Aziraphale just smiled sweetly, watching Crowley's eyes and letting his hands rest on the demon's sides as Crowley slowly straddled his angel, then leaned down and lovingly, gently pulled him into the softest of kisses. Aziraphale's breath caught in his throat as the sheer amount of love and tenderness spilled over him, making his hands shake against Crowley's skin as he matched the demon's pace, kissing him back with just as much emotion. 

This wasn't a desperate kiss snatched in an alleyway, it wasn't a shaky kiss that began or ended with quiet sobs in the dark, it wasn't even a passionate kiss shared between the sheets. It was a kiss Crowley was trying to stuff six thousand years of love into, and he wasn't doing a bad job. 

Crowley was the first to break away, reluctant and shaky, his lips still brushing Aziraphale's for a second too long before he slipped his arms around the angel hurriedly, suddenly wanting, suddenly needy, and Aziraphale obliged, hugging him as tightly as he could and burying his face in the soft red curls. 

"I've got you, darling," he murmured, and Crowley smiled to himself, pressing his entire chest against the angel's as Aziraphale closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy the feel of the demon's body laying against his, soothing in its solid weight. He could feel Crowley's chest rising and falling, each breath a little shaky, but deep and slow as Aziraphale slipped one hand up to the back of Crowley's head, holding him tightly. 

Crowley finally closed his eyes again, listening to Aziraphale's soft breaths in his ear and remaining completely relaxed in his angel's embrace, despite the insistent aching and the intermittent sharp pains in his shoulders and back. 

It was everything they both needed, heavy and emotional, but also tender and comforting, and after a moment or two, Aziraphale took a deep breath and began to speak softly, his fingers spreading on Crowley's lower back. "Darling _. _ ..I want another kiss." 

Crowley took a slow breath in, giving his brain a moment to switch gears before smirking to himself. "Do you now?" He purred, leaning back so he could see his angel's face, expecting annoyance or playfulness and instead being met with delight. Aziraphale grinned at him, and Crowley suddenly found himself on his back, all the air knocked out of his lungs and a strong angel kneeling over his hips, pinning him down. 

Crowley just laughed and Aziraphale ran a finger down the center of his chest, one eyebrow arched slightly. "You're not always in charge, my love." 

Crowley opened his mouth for a witty retort, but the sudden shivers running up his spine at the angel's words couldn't be ignored. He could feel the adrenaline making his body warm and slightly shaky, and he didn't want it to stop. "I see that." 

Aziraphale just grinned and kissed him again, firmly this time, his fingers tangling in Crowley's hair and his body heavy over the demon's. Crowley turned his head away after a moment or two, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes as Aziraphale leaned down, nuzzling at the underside of his jaw and pressing soft little kisses to his skin. 

“I want to go inside,” Crowley announced softly, and Aziraphale smiled against his neck, his hands sliding up the demon’s hips and under his shirt to feel the warmth of his sun-soaked skin. 

“You feel warm enough, my dear.” 

Crowley smiled to himself and Aziraphale kissed his cheek before standing up off the demon's hips, allowing him to get to his feet and wrapping an arm around his waist before he could wander away. 

Crowley just grinned to himself, all the pain and emotion and difficulty of earlier melting away in the face of Aziraphale's bright smiles and casual touches. He allowed himself to be led inside and all the way into the bedroom, and smirked lazily as Aziraphale pushed him up against the wall, his blue gaze suddenly hard and needy. 

"You gonna kiss me or just stand there and stare all day?" Crowley chuckled, and the angel rolled his eyes before kissing him slowly, allowing more passion to come into it this time, their bodies pressed together, shoved against the wall. Crowley felt his skin start to cool again and ran his hands up Aziraphale's sides, letting go of himself a little in an effort to keep his energy up. 

Aziraphale let his lips slide from Crowley's, grinning against his cheek before moving down and mouthing over the demon's neck. But where he had expected soft, warm skin, he found smooth, cool scales, and pulled back in surprise, his gaze flickering up to Crowley's accusingly. 

"You're exhausted!" 

"No, no, I'm fine," Crowley protested quickly, but the scales were still taking over, and his eyes were already fully yellow. "I'm just a bit cold." 

Aziraphale sighed and took a step back, gently pulling Crowley with him and wrapping an arm around the demon's waist. As soon as the pressure from the wall was released, a burst of pain flooded through Crowley's back, and he gasped involuntarily, stumbling and grabbing onto Aziraphale as he almost collapsed. 

The angel easily pulled him back to his feet and half carried him over to the bed, watching as Crowley immediately flopped down onto his stomach sleepily. 

"You're an idiot, darling," Aziraphale announced fondly, helping Crowley slip his shirt off before climbing up onto the bed over him. "Let me help," he murmured, tossing his coat to the side and rolling his sleeves up before running his hand down Crowley's back experimentally. 

The demon gave an encouraging little sigh and Aziraphale smiled confidently, starting to work out the knots and kinks in Crowley's back with expert hands.

"Crowley? Can you promise me something, my love?" 

Crowley grunted, already half asleep and drifting on a cloud of blissful pleasure thanks to the angel's soothing skill. 

"You need to tell me when the pain gets bad, darling, alright? And in return I promise to do my best to help you with it, however I can." 

Crowley smiled to himself, linking his hands under his head and resting his cheek on them comfortably as he relaxed into a pile of soft, thick, vanilla and cinnamon scented blankets.

"That sounds like a perfect arrangement, angel." 

Aziraphale chuckled to himself and traced a pattern between Crowley's shoulderblades with one fingertip, sitting back slightly as his wings unfolded, black and gleaming, and spread out across the bed. Aziraphale tutted softly at the sight of the unkempt feathers, but kept massaging around the base of his wings for a few more minutes, working all the pain out of Crowley's muscles before turning to work on his wings instead. He helped Crowley stretch them properly, then quietly leaned down, humming to himself softly as he fixed each feather, combing through them with his fingers and slowly working his way from one side to the other. 

Beneath him, Crowley was completely relaxed, content and comfortable as his exhausted body rested under the attentive, loving care of his angel, in a room that smelled of home and warmth and tender love. And it wasn't long at all before Aziraphale's tuneless humming and his gentle, soothing touches lulled Crowley into a calm, dreamless sleep, and he finally rested, at peace. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last one!   
> At least for now, I'm not sure if I might write more on this just because I love this headcanon so much, but I really don't have any ideas of where to take it at the moment and I am working on something new for you guys anyway, so I don't really have time.   
> Anyway, enjoy and please let me know what you thought!   
> <3


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